Dawn
by Elysis
Summary: After the 57th expedition and a terrible apology, Levi decides to start training Mikasa every morning before sunrise. A story of how two people fall in love. Spoiler-free. RivaMika
1. Dawn

The sun is not up yet when Mikasa leaves her room. She walks through the shadowy corridor leading to the large inner courtyard, the shy rays of light barely coming through the windows. The silence surrounding her is endearing and the young girl takes a moment to appreciate the sound of her quiet footsteps slightly echoing through the dark hallway. Every morning before dusk, it has become a habit of hers to sneak into the training hall to work on her own for an hour or two before the rest of the Survey corps wakes up to start a new day. In a life where they are continuously surrounded with each other, she cherishes these few hours where she can appreciate the silence and peace of being alone.

As she pushes the heavy wooden doors, an icy breeze rushes through the opening, the swirl of wind ruffling her dark black hair and sending a shiver across her body. It is one of those cold mornings where you can feel winter slowly but surely looming in. Mikasa takes a deep breath of the callous, burning air and hurries across the frozen grass to the tall doors of the Dojo. When she finally reaches them she quickly dives into the vast room to escape the cold winds and swiftly slips through the entry, silently closing the door behind her. But before she has the time to turn around, a voice makes itself known.

"Ackerman?"

As she hears her name resonate through the not so empty hall, she freezes, startled. Turning around to face the inside of the Dojo, she recognizes the small figure of Levi, only wearing a pair of white shorts and a tank top, covered in sweat and surrounded by weights and dumbbells. One of his legs is tightly bandaged, his wounded knee tightly held in place by a black binding.

"Heichou", Mikasa breathes, her body relaxing a little and yet automatically shifting into a salute.

The man's eyes narrow at her sight, letting one of the weights he was holding in his hand drop to the ground. A moment passes without the two of them exchanging a word, simply staring at each other; him, annoyed to see another person intrude his rehabilitation session, her, stunned at her lack of luck.

Ever since what had happened in the forest with the Female Titan, the two of them had barely seen each other, each warped up in their own work. Levi had been stranded for weeks waiting for his leg to heal, and when his re-education had started it had been even harder for him to stomach the weakness of his limb. He had started to work in the Dojo by himself in the middle of the night, before the sun would rise.

A sting of irritation rises inside of him, displeased that the person who is the reason for his injury would also be the one to find him out.

"You're not supposed to be here," Levi finally says, breaking the silence and gesturing towards her to drop her stance.

The young girl's face remains impassive and she lets her right arm drop to her side. Her dark eyes linger for a few seconds on the knee of the man in front of her. A small wave of guilt suddenly takes hold of her heart, but she manages to push it back. She watches Levi step away from the weights and walk towards one of the benches against one of the walls, grabbing a small towel and putting it around his damp neck. His limp is unperceivable, so light you can barely notice it, but still present.

Levi indolently looks back at her, his two hands tightly locked around each side of his towel.

"Ackerman," he snaps, "What did I just say to you?"

The young girl's hands curl into two fists. She knows there is no beating around the bush with Lance Corporal Levi Rivai.

"Heichou," she retorts, taking a few steps towards her commanding officer, "I come here by myself every morning to train to get stronger," she pauses, locking her eyes into his, defiantly, "And better".

Levi's eyes linger on her for a moment, "I see," he finally says softly, turning his sight away from her, rubbing his towel against his face.

Mikasa watches him silently slip on his shoes and throw his towel over his shoulder. Completely ignoring her, he starts to walk towards the exit, his small steps creaking on the wooden floor. She observes his every move, waiting for a reaction that doesn't come as he walks past her. When she hears that he is about to leave the building, the young girl speaks up.

"I'm sorry"

There is no regret in her voice, nor shame. Her apology makes the corporal stop on his feet. They both stand there, their backs facing each other.

"Is that so" Levi muses, still standing before the Dojo's doors.

"What happened in the forest, it was my fault" Mikasa continues, "With-"

But the young girl doesn't have the time to finish her sentence.

"-Bullshit"

Levi's word resonates through Mikasa like the harsh truth that it is, sending a mix of disbelief and indignation down her back. The corporal turns around, now fully irritated.

"Bullshit" he repeats, hissing, "You're not sorry Ackerman, you're not sorry at all. The only thing you are sorry for is not killing that shitty little blond titan-shifter yourself"

As his words make their way to the dark-haired girl, Levi watches every muscle in her body tense up, her fists starting to lightly shake. He raises his eyes to meet an icy, angry glare. But before she can act up on the bitterness surely rising inside of her, Levi steps to the weapon tray on his left where long wooden bō are aligned and quickly opts for the option where he doesn't have to file a report on her. He grabs two of them and swiftly turns back to face Mikasa, throwing one in her direction. By the time she has caught it, he has already launched himself in her direction. The two weapons hit against each other in a loud bang.

"A woman worth a hundred soldiers?" he snarls at her, pressing his wooden stick against hers forcefully, "Don't let it get to your head".

With a powerful push from his stick he thrusts her away. She stumbles back a few steps and raises her piercing eyes to the corporal, sudden resentment and fury rising at the back of her throat like a scorching fire.

"A hundred soldiers wouldn't have acted that way. That stunt you pulled out there was reckless," he continues, making his stick swirl behind him, "Your sheer talent won't save you in the long run. You think you're better than the rest of them? You're not"

Levi's words have finally struck the chord he was trying to pull, and the young girl's eyes are ablaze, her breathing heavy and her teeth tightly clenched together. She feels across her skin that crawling sensation of ire, the affirmation of her fighting heart still beating against her chest, hostility taking control of every fibre of her being.

He doesn't have time to start another sentence that the girl hurls towards him, her stick raised high for a full-blown hit. He counters her blow, knocking her back a little as he swiftly repositions himself to an offensive stance, swinging his weapon horizontally, aiming for her head. She avoids the shot by taking a quick step to the side, counter attacking him with a strong hit to his side. Her hits are strong and powerful, amazingly controlled and precise, perhaps a little too much, but Levi is faster than her, even with his weak knee. With a sudden plunge, he hits Mikasa under her chin, drawing some blood. He pauses to let her recuperate as she lowers her head back to meet his undisturbed gaze, her eyes burning with rage.

"Go to hell" she hisses, wiping the blood off her face with the back of her hand, "I couldn't care less of the opinion of a freak like you"

"Are you angry now?" Levi continues, please with the insult that has just been thrown at him, "Good-", he raises his piece of wood in her direction, "Use it. But don't let it overwhelm you. Learn to control it. Only when you do will you have a shot at becoming the best and strongest out there"

Mikasa jumps to him, her blows getting fiercer and fiercer.

"I am strong," she growls, pushing him away from her with intensity, only to attack him even harder.

"You're arrogant, Ackerman," Levi replies matter-of-factly. With incredible speed, he manages to dodge every one of her hits, each time forcing her to take a step back until she is pinned against one of the walls, Levi's weapon thrust against her chest, preventing her to move or breath properly. His face is close to hers; Mikasa can feel his breath against hers. They both scowl into each other's eyes.

"I need the men and women at my side to be seamless," asserts Levi, his weapon still digging into Mikasa's chest, "You are not. And if you continue down the path you are on, you will get killed. Is that what you want?"

"…No" the girl barely manages to exhale.

Levi lets go of his hold on her. He takes a last long look at the panting girl before him and steps back, dropping his weapon to the ground. Casually, he walks over back to the middle of the Dojo to grab his fallen towel and makes his way back to the exit. As he reaches the doors, he opens one of them, letting in a gush of cold wind and a bright ray of light illuminating his whole self.

"We all have scars, Ackerman," Levi declares. He turns his head back to the girl; "I'll see you tomorrow. Same time, same place", he adds, glancing one last time at her before disappearing through the door.


	2. Daybreak

She takes a deep breath and lets the air flow out of her mouth slowly, trying to bring her mind to a quiet rest, to keep her thoughts still and silent if only for a moment. Bringing her concentration to her breathing pattern, Mikasa finally realizes just how disordered and frenzied her head really is, finding herself incapable of doing what Levi is asking her to do.

They have been training every day for weeks now, but up until then it had only been combat exercises. She had been surprised when the Corporal had told her today that they were going to do something a little less physical. The thought at first had not worried her; she often contemplated and reflected upon the world around her silently, but what Levi was asking was a different kind of contemplation, a different kind of silence. For the first time in her life, Mikasa realized just how terrifying it was to be mindful of the world around her, but most of all, of herself.

The young girl opens her eyes and lets her sight settle on the man in front of her. His eyes are still closed and he is sitting in the same position as her, legs crossed, his hands resting softly on his knees. He is wearing his usual training clothes, his tank top showing slender yet muscular shoulders. The light of the rising sun gently falls on his face perfectly framed by his dark black hair. His expression, much to Mikasa's amazement, is perfectly calm and peaceful, and notices that it is in fact his whole body that is in that state. Where there usually is the strain of tension in every muscle of his body, now stands something that seems to be an unperturbed sense of tranquility. His jaw, usually clenched and hollowing his cheeks, is relaxed; making his thin lips part slightly. His breathing is deep and slow, his chest rising and falling to a gentle, soundless rhythm. She finds herself quietly enjoying the sight of a man who usually seems to be so relentlessly and irately indifferent. Without even being conscious of it, her breathing starts to slow down to match his.

"Must be one hell of a view for you to be so absorbed by it."

Levi's sarcastic voice snaps her out of her musing. Her body suddenly stiffens and her back straightens out, embarrassed, her chin rising to meet his un-amused scowl.

"Enjoying yourself, Ackerman?" he continues, his eyes locked into hers disapprovingly.

His face has lost every ounce of peacefulness it had held a few seconds ago. Strain has taken over once again. She crosses her arms and curses, turning her head to the side, irritated by his mockery, but also by her own incapability.

"You're wasting my time," she says, refusing to look back at the corporal, "I don't see the point of this."

The man studies her for a moment, his eyes like daggers.

"Very well," he finally says, bitterness marking every one of his words, "Leave then. I wouldn't want to waste your precious, little time."

Mikasa turns her glower back at him, a frown settling on her face. In a heated fit, she stands up in haste and marches towards the exit of the Dojo. But before she has time to open the door, Levi's voice makes its way to her ears.

"But don't ever pretend to even aspire to be the best out there."

His contempt abruptly stops her leave, having the desired effect on her. She is starting to know his tricks that get a reaction out of her, just as much as he knows exactly what to say to make her blood boil. She turns around, her temper flaring despite it all.

"This is bullshit!" she cries out, slashing the air with her hand, "You don't even give me any explanations! How am I supposed to-"

"Don't blame me for your failure, Ackerman." Levi interrupts her, pushing himself off the ground steadily back onto his feet.

But she has already had enough of him and in a split of a second she is standing right before him, his face an inch away from hers.

"My failure?" she snarls, furious, "You don't teach someone to swim by throwing them head first into the water."

"How sensitive of you." the man replies instantly, his eyes still fixed on Mikasa's. She surpasses him in height, but he doesn't budge even when she sees her take another step closer to him, feeling her frustration emanating from her body. "You want my sympathy?" he continues, undisturbed by her, "You won't get it."

"I don't want anything from you."

"Right. That's why you have been coming here every morning."

Mikasa turns away and shouts in exasperation. She doesn't have the time to take another step that Levi has already grabbed her wrist and brings her back in front of him.

"I'm not done with you," his hand is tight around her arm, "You will never be a great soldier Ackerman, if you don't clear your mind and master your emotions. You can't disconnect it from the rest; you can't put it on hold while you're fighting because it will come and bite you in the ass; you of all people should know that."

Mikasa looks down at Levi, scowling, freeing herself from his grasp with force.

"And if you want someone to learn from you," she answers venomously, "You shouldn't act like a jerk while giving absolutely no directives."

Levi breathes in, his shoulders relaxing a little.

"Fair enough." the young man ponders for a second before looking back at her. As if something had clicked in his mind, he strolls over to one of the windows and slides it open. Turning around towards Mikasa, he gestures her to follow him and jumps through the opening, disappearing in a heartbeat. It takes her a second to decide whether or not she wants to proceed with Levi, but her curiosity gets the better of her. She jolts through the window and runs after him, not knowing where exactly he is leading her.

Levi goes around the Dojo to finally stop at a small closed off garden. When Mikasa finally reaches him, he nods at her and they walk through the green trees, his bare feet drumming smoothly on each paving stone as they make their way to a clearing.

"Sit."

Mikasa executes herself and drops to the grass, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She feels Levi sit down too, his back against hers.

"Clear your mind."

His command is firm yet gentle.

"Bring your consciousness to everything around you; Take a deep breath," they both inhale at the same moment; Mikasa feels Levi's back muscles tense against hers, "And exhale. Listen to the sound of the leaves ruffling against each other as the wind blows through them; the water drops of the pond; the singing of the bird. Feel the breeze on your face; the rays of the sun against your skin; the grass and the earth under your palm."

Mikasa lets out an impatient, jeering sigh, which Levi catches immediately.

"Don't make me regret this, Ackermann."

His face slowly tilts to the side, looking back at the young girl.

"You think this is stupid? You're right, it sounds stupid. But the whole point is to make you aware of everything around you and of yourself. You're an exceptional soldier, Ackerman, but your mind is all over the place. Learn to master it, learn to reveal what's really inside of you and prevent you from making stupid ass decisions like you usually do."

He feels her tense behind his back.

"Be aware of every sensation in your body, of every muscle, of your heartbeat, of your breathing. Bring your mind to them and focus."

"The point is to be proficient in having complete control over that stupid endless chatter in your head, and to shut it up."

"It's not that easy." Mikasa whispers back, frustrated.

"Of course it's not easy, Ackerman" he snaps back, "Now shut your mouth and concentrate."

She takes a deep breath and lets the air flow out of her mouth slowly, trying to bring her mind to a quiet rest, to keep her thoughts still and silent if only for a moment.

She doesn't know how long they stay against each other, their breathing matching one another. But after a long moment of telling herself to settle down, she suddenly becomes aware of how close Levi really is to her. How every muscle in his back strengthens with each breath he takes, how they unwind at every exhale. The only thing she can hear is his slow breath escaping his open mouth. She feels the soft skin of his arm brushing against hers, their hair entangled as their heads rest gently against each other. She feels a blank space caused by the arches of their backs, an emptiness she spontaneously closes.

The world all around her is moving, time is ticking, but in that moment, in that very moment, she feels an odd, unfamiliar sensation creep up in her stomach all the way to her heart, something so heavy and light at the same time, something that shouldn't be here and yet something that she is forced to acknowledge.

Her heartbeat staggers.

The day breaks; she feels the gentle and warm rays of the sun caressing their skin, the wind against their neck, silence quietly settling in her mind.

The day breaks, and everything is new.


	3. Midday

**A/N : Hey guys, I just wanted to thank every one who has taken the time to review/favorite/follow this story. You guys are the best and it makes me so happy to know you are enjoying this!**

When Levi walks into the Dojo, the first snowflakes of the winter have already completely covered the frozen grass with a thin layer of glistening ice. His dark hair is speckled with white crystals and his cloak is drenched from the snow melting on the thick cloth. The early birds are still singing their morning songs, huddled together on the bare branches of the sleeping trees under the pale sky.

As he passes through the door, he sees Mikasa indolently leaning on an opened window. She is dressed in her training clothes, her tight black shorts and brassiere matching her raven hair contrasting with the snowy scenery outside. Her hand is outstretched, an open palm reddened from the cold and collecting the falling snow. He cannot see the look on her face, but there is something reflective and nostalgic in the way she holds herself, a vanishing grace he can't help but admire. The edge of the window almost appears like the frame of a painting, enclosing the young girl in front of the peaceful garden.

"You'll catch a cold like that Ackerman." he speaks up while putting his cloak up to dry. His voice is surprisingly stern.

"Good morning to you too, Corporal."

She sounds cold and distant, perhaps a little too withdrawn, even for her. She doesn't budge. He lets out a small sigh and walks through the tatamis over to the large opening where his student is standing, covering at the same time his left hand with a thin, long strip of white cotton. He places himself next to her, leaning in his turn against the window and watching the serene white garden.

"Everything all right?" he asks her, still working on his hand.

She answers him with a slight nod, glancing rapidly at him before returning her attention to the snowflakes. A couple of minutes pass in silence, something not so unusual when the two of them are together. She continues her quiet musing as he finishes bandaging both of his hands, getting ready for their session of day. Over the weeks of training together, mutual respect had settled between the two individuals, even if arguing and antagonism always punctuated their encounters.

Their relationship had grown from distaste to tolerance in a matter of days. The mutual admiration however, had quietly and furtively crept onto them over the weeks, neither of them willing to admit it, neither of them accepting they could feel something else than annoyance for the other. Consequently, they did not give in or surrendered to the other, both refusing to lose this battle of wits, rejecting the very idea of being openly vulnerable; Neither one of them yielded, just like both of them found in each other a piece that was missing inside of them.

But sometimes, some very rare, extraordinary times, one of them would say something. And the breach would open a little a more.

"That wind would feel like a thousand biting blades in the mountains." she ushers, almost to herself.

Levi straightens up, trying to not linger on her words; tightly closing his two hands into fists to make sure the bandages are secure and walking back towards the center of the room.

"Come on Ackerman," he orders while looking back at her, "Let's get to work."

She closes her hand and stands still for a second before stepping away from the window and sliding it shut. She walks up to Levi and stops before him, ready for their lesson. Her cheeks and nose are red from the cold, drops of water trickling down her wet hair to her neck.

Her stance has completely changed, determination replacing what previously had seemed like melancholy. Her eyes are back to their controlled intensity, her long back straightened and ready.

"How's the meditation going?" he asks her, his hands clasped behind his back. She nods with resolve.

"Every morning before you arrive and every night before going to bed." she replies mechanically.

"And?"

She seems to hesitate before giving him an answer.

"I'm not sure," she finally says, "It seems to get harder every day instead of easier."

Levi studies her for a few seconds, pondering on whether or not he even made the right choice when he decided to train this girl. And before she has time to react, his hand is already shooting up at her throat, the side of his straightened out palm hitting it in a smooth blow and preventing the air to enter or leave her body. She falls to her knees, the pain too sharp and fast to realize what has happened. Her hands reach to her throat, suffocating noises coming out of it as she tries to take a breath. Dark, angry eyes shoot up towards the corporal, a growl seeming to come out from the back of her throat, her back tensing up as if she were ready to launch herself at him. Unimpressed, Levi looks down at her.

"You could have stopped my blow," he retorts, clearly ticked off, "But you just continue to not pay attention."

He bends to the ground, levelling his eyes to hers, "When you open your mind, your other senses sharpen. Your ears, your smell, your sense of touch, of being touched," He places one hand on her forearm before continuing, "Clearing your mind will facilitate your instincts, and your instincts are what will keep you alive."

She frees herself from his grasp and backs off, well away from him.

"I will destroy you," she gasps with rage, barely recovering her voice, the pain clearly still present in her throat. Levi sighs and stands up.

"How long are we gonna continue doing this, Ackerman?" he barks, crossing his arms.

She gets up on her feet silently, not giving him an answer besides a cold, hard glare. They study each other for a few seconds before Levi breaks the silence.

"Come here."

Mikasa doesn't move, both of her hands now to her side, her feet firmly planted into the ground.

"Ackerman", Levi threatens before reiterating, "Come here."

"So you can hit me again?" Mikasa ripostes, shaking her head, "I don't think so."

Levi's tongue ticks and he hurries towards the stubborn girl. Once he has reached her, he raises his right hand in front of him, his palm facing Mikasa.

"Put your hand on mine." he commands her.

She looks at him suspiciously, still unsure if she can believe him or not. After a very short moment though, she raises her hand and places it delicately against his palm. His touch, despite the resentment towards the man before her, leaves a confusing feeling in her stomach, a tingling across her skin where their hands join.

« Look at me. »

Her eyes dart back from their linked hands to his dark stare. In a mix of distrust and curiosity, she locks her gaze into his, warning him silently. Intuitively, they slowly let the air out of their lungs just as Levi applies pressure against Mikasa's palm, gently and slowly moving their touching hands away from him.

"Clear your head," Levi's voice is soft but firm, his left hand shifting towards Mikasa's other arm, placing it against it, "This is not a fight. Follow my moves."

Rotating around each other, Levi leads the young girl into a slow stream of movements, his hands against hers, fingers lightly flowing on the skin of her arms, softly pushing one after the other, limbs against each other, feet drifting on the matted floor like an arrangement of strange notes trying to find the perfect harmony.

"Tell the voice in your head to shut up," he says in a whisper, his eyes still locked into hers, "If you can listen to me through my movements and feel the drive inside of you, your senses will guide you and predict my actions."

Something seems to light up in the eyes of the young girl wearing a frown of concentration on her beautiful face. Their rhythm intensifies without a word, an understanding seeming to settle between the two, each one of their touch, each one of their actions being guessed by the other. They shift around one another, a loose yet controlled journey where their mobility turns into a dance. They progress to the other, wandering, travelling to the other's territory.

The earth stands still as they turn around each other, their hands following the other's, every gentle and fluid movement in accordance, predicting what the next change is going to be, trading the energy that has started to flow amongst them. If one of them puts some space in between them, the other closes that distance, helplessly, dependently.

Their breathing gets heavier just as their steps get faster, Mikasa suddenly taking the lead, almost commanding him to step back as she closes every inch of space left between their bodies.

Levi feels a cold wooden surface hit against his back. Pinned against the wall, his hands clasped in hers, he becomes suddenly aware of how close she really is. Their bodies intertwined, he lowers his eyes to her parted lips, feeling her heavy panting against his face, her nose grazing his. When their eyes meet, she is flushed, and in his stomach Levi can feel surging a desire and a longing to eliminate any kind of space that is left between them. But before he can even act up on his feeling, she breaks away from him, taking a step back and aiming for the exit. But her hand is still sheltered into his, and he is not ready to let go of her just yet. He tries to hold on to her but her hand slips away.

"Ackerman."

His voice is imploring, heartfelt yet firm. She stops on her feet and turns around, confusion bathing her entire face. Her chest is rising rapidly, her heart pounding inside of it. A moment of uncertainty settles between the two, both considering each other, a thousand questions going through their heads. He takes a shy step towards her, torn in his indecision, feeling her shift towards him, uncertain, wavering.

"I should go."

Her voice is pleading, sincere yet strong. Levi feels it like a violent hit in the gut. And as he watches her silently disappear, he can't help but feel his heart drop a thousand feet.


	4. Daylight

**A/N : Hey everyone, taking the time to thank everyone who has favorite/followed, every day I get new notifications and it warms my heart to know that so many of you are enjoying this! Reviews are always appreciated :) thank you!**

The first rays of the sun pull him out of his restless sleep, the heaviness of his tired body making itself known the instant he opens his eyes. He takes a moment to listen to the morning birds outside of his window, feathered friends that keep him company whenever the day arrives too soon. The heat of his bed is surprisingly comforting, and Levi almost considers lingering in between the sheets, if not for a few more minutes. But despite his own weariness and the warm invitation of his futon, he leans up, letting the white cotton covers slip off of him.

He runs his hands through his hair and across his face, a sigh escaping his lips. Slowly, he pulls himself up to his feet and walks over to the window, sliding it open. He likes to think the white coat of winter is at its purest form at dawn: untouched, natural, glistening under the morning light. He lowers his eyes to the small, empty iron basin he has set on the large wooden edge of his window. Mechanically, he bends down to the cloth sachet on the floor and grabs from it a fistful of grains, which he puts inside of the smooth bowl. Taking a few steps back, he settles himself back onto his futon in a sitting position, crossing his legs and straightening his back, taking in the fresh air rushing through the opening against his bare chest. It doesn't take a while before the birds come peck at the round yellow granules and before Levi's mind slips back to Mikasa Ackerman.

He doesn't know how it all happened, how everything led to this one particular moment where the lines between teacher and student blurred. Over the weeks, their training had become something more than a simple exercise, something more than the perfecting of techniques. Their souls had bonded, two becoming one, and deep inside, he hated himself for letting it happen. Her rejection had been a wake up call, a gust of wind icing everything across its passage. He had been hurt at first, but quickly the feeling had been replaced by confusion and agitation. Now all that was left inside of him was the bitter taste of his own failure at keeping his emotions in check.

She is a stubborn brat, he thinks, impatient and obstinate, never taking no for an answer, never respecting orders if they do not appeal to her. She is strong, one of the strongest, but she is irresponsible, a danger on the battlefield, he had seen it first hand in combat. But what infuriates him more than anything else is how incapable she is of putting aside her personal feelings, discern her own judgement and logically assess situations. But it's precisely for that reason, too, that he had taken an interest in her and had decided to train her. For in a way, he'd seen so much of his past self in her, and so much of who he was today. He could see it now, that they were one and the same, that they mirrored each other and that both had a hard time accepting such a reflection.

The more time passed, the more he had started to know her and the more he knew, the more his heart gave in, without him realizing it, without him fully understanding it.

It's the sorrow deeply hidden inside her eyes that surfaces from time to time; the anger that inhabits her heart and possesses every fibre of her being; the way her silences speak a thousand words. How she frowns whenever she tries to focus on something, how she looks down at him, her chin raised high, curiosity spread on her face. The way she fights, the way she survives, the way she lives.

Levi glances at the clock on his wall and stands up imperturbably. With slow controlled movements, he pulls the covers back over his bed and neatly tucks it under the mattress, running a hand over the wrinkled sheets to smooth it out. When he is done, he puts his clothes on, gently, fingers lightly running against each button with a sort of detached elegance. His movements are slow, aloof, perhaps a little lacking in _something_. He meets his own gaze while glancing in the mirror, a tired look, edged with ever-lasting shadows around his dark eyes. He blinks at himself, contemplative of his own heart before grabbing his cloak and swiftly setting it around his shoulders, vanishing through the door of his room.

Yesterday had been a long, convoluted day. Ackerman's flight had stunned him in a way that he had been unable to react properly, and when finally he had come to his senses, she was already gone, leaving in the snow a trail of hurried footsteps. Part of him had wanted to go after her, the other part, however, ordered him to let it go. To let her go.

The whole day had passed in a sort of daze, slower than usual, atypically long and tedious. His meetings had sent him in some kind of stupor, his ordinary apathy even fiercer than usual, his temper shorter, his irritation deeper. He had not run into her, something that he was grateful for, despite his own longing to see her face, despite his eyes seeking her around each corner, despite a longing to hear her calm voice behind him, to feel her hand on his shoulder.

"Levi"

The deep and steady voice pulls him out of his stream of thought and stops him on his feet. Looking up in the direction of the sound, he recognizes Erwin standing in front of a mirror, buttoning up his own white shirt.

"I'm sorry," the commander smiles, now arranging his collar, "Did I startle you?"

His door is wide open and Levi walks over to the threshold of the commander's bedroom. It's a small chamber, modest, the walls covered in books and manuscripts. The large window is opened and as he stops at the frame of the door, he feels a cold draught coming through the room. Levi shrugs, shaking his head.

"What are you doing up so early?" he then asks, leaning against the wooden edge and crossing his arms, his eyes drifting out the window.

"I need to prepare for a meeting." the tall blond man responses, grabbing his brown jacket and swiftly slipping it on. He runs a smooth hand against the blazon on his chest before adding, "Is everything alright?"

Levi nods vaguely, his eyes dropping at his feet for half a second before raising them back up at his friend. His icy blue eyes are looking at him intensely, demanding an answer from him. His body shifts towards Levi.

"Did something happen with Ackerman?"

Levi's face remains impassive, if not for the small twitch at the corner of his mouth. A scoff spurts out of his lips.

"Aside from being her usual bratty self? No, nothing."

"I see," Erwin answers, studying him for a moment. Perhaps he is fully aware of the turmoil going on inside of his friend, but nevertheless decides to remain silent. Something Levi is grateful for.

"Well I won't hold you." the commander speaks up after an instant of stillness between the two, going back to preparing himself for the day. Levi gives him a nod and takes a step away from the door to continue his way towards the Dojo, but he is stopped once again by Erwin's voice.

"Levi?"

The dark haired man takes a step back to the door, one hand on the frame. His friend is still standing before his mirror, his two hands on each side of the small table below it. Their eyes meet once again.

"Be careful."

His fast strides quickly lead him to the door opening to the gardens. When he passes the thick wooden entrance, the freezing air crashes against his face like a welcomed wake-up call. The sound of his boots crushing against the white snow mingle with the sound of the world softly stirring, an eerie silence speckled with the light chants of birds and the hiss of the morning breeze. He can see the Dojo from afar hidden behind the tall, bare trees, and something inside of him staggers, a mix of insecurity and doubt.

Every morning for a month now, she has been waiting for him inside of that Dojo, and every morning he had trained her to become a better soldier, and a better person. But he himself had felt changes too, changes that he had not expected to happen, changes he was not ready to let happen. And yet here he was, once more, going to that place to continue whatever it was they had started.

He doesn't know what he wants to say to her, he doesn't know if he wants to apologize, or to brush everything off, to blame yesterday's intimacy on the heat of the moment, to forget, to pretend it never happened.

The door is a few steps away, and his heart refuses still to disregard the bond he and the girl have formed, whispering to him how resilient it is, how he will never find something like that with anyone else.

When he finally reaches the door and slides it open, his heart is soaring. But darkness and silence are the only things welcoming him. He freezes, the emptiness of the room hitting him straight through the chest like a piercing arrow. He wonders for a split second if perhaps she did not wake up this morning, if perhaps she is late, sick, injured. The denial spreads through him like fire, cleansing the verity his body is unable to accept, covering the unexpected wound. And as the truth quickly dawns on him, bringing him back to reality, anger suddenly strikes him, resentment and rage mingled together with his confusion.

She had not come. And she would not be coming back.


	5. Dusk

_A/N : Hi everyone! Sorry for the wait, this took a little longer to write because university started up and my own Dojo practices too :p so I've been a little busy! Also I may or may not have had writer's block on this chapter pfft.  
In one of the reviews I got a comment saying my dialogue punctuation was off, so I have edited the previous chapters and now everything should hopefully be okay!_ _Sorry for that, my bilingual brain can mix up grammar rules oops._  
_Thank you so much for everyone who reads, reviews, favorites, etc. It makes me so happy to know you are enjoying this, as always._

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The long thin bokken lacerates the frozen air for the hundredth time, leaving invisible tears in the faint, morning breeze. The two hands powerfully grasping its hilt are red from the cold, but do not seem to give in to any eventual fatigue or to the icy draft of winter. They are steady and strong, stable and balanced, and without a single tremble, they hold on to the wood with a rare completion. Each stroke is controlled and identical, the previous one mirroring the next in a quietening and reverberating repetition.

And with each blow comes a heartening cry, a loud shout breathed out by the diaphragm, the release of pent up energy seeking an understanding, the echo of an inner emptiness spreading through the snowy garden.

Feet are firmly planted on the wooden floor of the outside deck, gliding slowly across the flat surface, slithering softly with each movement of the legs and sway of the pelvis. Every step is precise and composed, leaving an indiscernible trail, marking an intangible trajectory as soles go back and forth on the dark timber.

She is a blurred spot of black ink on a blank manuscript, a flying raven across a snow-white field. Her dark hair streams around her perfectly shaped chin, a few strands falling in her concentrated and stern eyes, flowing along each and every move she makes. Her thick black budo kimono moulds her solid shoulders and bust, and cascades down her waist to her feet like waves crashing against a cliff. She slides through the wind like the last leaf of a dying tree.

She has been working on the same movement for an hour now, as if this obsessive reiteration would be the key to some success, an inward strive for self-perfection.

On and on, she brings the long weapon above her head, taking in a deep breath as she stares at the void before her. On and on, she brings it down with a fluid and relaxed motion, emptying her lungs, balancing the wood between her hands and handling the weight of the sword with thin and expert fingers.

She is grateful for the silence surrounding her, pleased by her unfaltering concentration, and yet, there is a quiver hidden inside each of her blows, a hesitation in her breathing, a sting inside of her heart disengaging her mind.

Before Him, she had strived on survival mechanism and inborn reflexes. When faced with a threat, she responded accordingly, trying to not overthink situations. She had been and still was far from perfection, struggling every day to become stronger but she had never asked herself if whether or not her mind was free, she had never taken the time to examine her own inner conflicts. Why bother? They were all living on borrowed time, and her superiority was a given; she was a powerful soldier, an excellent warrior. Humanity needed her strength, and she needed to be better, greater and tougher. For them.

She lets her arms rise, the wooden sword floating in the air before diving down through space. She starts to feel the muscles in her neck and in her back disagree every time she replicates the blow. But she continues, refusing to acknowledge her exhaustion.

He would not approve. Call her obstinate again, force her to take a break, and when she would not listen, wrestle for her weapon, order her to sit down. The single thought of him manages to destabilize her hit and she feels a disruption in her wrists, contempt spreading from her heart to each one of her extremities. She weakens for a second; Her blow vacillates a little too much to the right. She clenches her jaw and automatically takes a deep breath, trying to empty her mind. But this too, brings another thought of him, and she can hear him whisper to her "_clear your head"_.

Before Him, every one of her reactions in conflicts had been primitive. When she was pulled, her natural response was to pull back. When she was pushed, she pushed back. Yet the moment he had entered her life, the moment their hands had touched, their bodies joined in every day practice, things had started to change. Awareness of herself and of her surroundings had emerged, and through him, she had seen her own abyss. Slowly, gradually, timidly, they both had looked inside of each other, revealed themselves for who they truly were: a mystery, an enigmatic knot of anger, an unspoken need to be someone.

Things had changed indeed. When he pulled, she let herself be pulled, and when she pushed, he let himself be pushed. And through this shared acceptance, they had started to have a taste of what peace could possibly feel like. And yet.

She shifts her weight, changing the side she has been training on: she puts her left foot in front and her right one behind in a parallel line, slightly rotating it for balance. Once more, she raises the bokken above her head, readying herself for another series of blows. But her attack is interrupted by an unexpected voice calling her name.

"Mikasa!"

She drops her arms and turns on her feet gracefully, the tip of the bokken in her right hand gently scrapping the hard floor. She recognizes her childhood friend making his way towards her through the snow, wrapped in a green cloak, his hood up. She waits for him to be closer to greet him.

"Armin."

The young boy looks up at her from the snowed ground. His nose and cheeks are slightly pink, and his blond hair mingles through the wind. Mikasa suddenly realizes how cold it really is, the wind having risen since she has started her practice.

"What are you doing out here?!" he asks her, pushing away a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"I'm practicing." The young girl replies simply, a slight perplexed frown forming on her face.

"It's freezing out here!" He exclaims, taking another step towards her "Is this part of the Corporal's training?"

She lowers her dark eyes and glances at her wooden sword before answering in a whisper, "No."

"Where is he?" Armin inquires, looking around him incredulously. When he doesn't see their commanding officer, he looks back at his friend who is silently gazing in the distance. He doesn't need her to answer for him to understand.

"We have stopped training together." Mikasa finally replies, settling her eyes back on her friend.

The two look at each other for a moment, Armin considering her, seeing in her eyes something amiss, a desolation greater than usual. He walks up to the wooden deck and pulls himself up to the edge into a sitting position, his feet dangling in the air. Mikasa shuffles behind him and he feels her drop lightly next to him. They huddle together for warmth, their arms against each other and hands respectively clasped and hidden inside the folds of their clothing. A quiet moment passes as they both admire the white gardens gleaming under the morning sunlight, listening to the wind quietly whistling in their ears, gently caressing their faces and faintly stirring the bare branches of the sleeping cherry trees.

"Where is Eren?" the young girl asks pensively, her voice soft and melodious.

"He was still sleeping when I left our bedroom." Armin answers, glancing back at his friend. She looks tired, he thinks to himself, the shadows under her eyes are opaque; tired lines mark her elegant face.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" he finally says after a few seconds of pondering.

Mikasa softly breathes out, her eyes still scouting the gardens.

"It's nothing," she sighs, lightly shaking her head, "Just a disagreement. It's nothing."

"Did you talk about it with him?"

Mikasa's silence says it all, and the young boy lets out an amused yet weary chuckle. His friend looks back at him and their eyes meet.

"You two are so similar it's almost painful to watch."

Mikasa scoffs and her eyes dart back to the robin she has been watching perched on the tree a few feet away from the deck, before replying resentfully "We're nothing alike."

Armin sighs and his eyes drop to his hands, agitatedly folding and unfolding the creases of his cloak.

"I've seen him stare at you, you know," he finally decides to say, "When you are not looking." He raises his eyes back to his friend, "Just like I've seen you do the same."

A faint blush creeps up on Mikasa's cheeks as she lowers her eyes to the ground, slightly biting her lower lip.

"Look," he continues, raising a palm towards her, "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. It just seems to me that whatever is going on between you two; you should probably sort it out before somebody gets hurt. And I'm not talking about one of you. It could endanger any mission we are on."

The dark haired girl exhales, running a hand through her short hair. She lies down on the deck, her back against the hard wood.

"I know." She whispers, gazing at the sky that has started to be veiled by grey clouds.

Armin glances back at her and lies down on the deck with her. They both rest there as snow starts falling from the drab sky, snowflakes gently flying around the air and landing all around them, or instantly melting against their skin. Winter once again makes its presence known with a tender gust of freezing wind, a glacial kiss upon their faces. But despite the cold, despite the callous air, there is something peaceful that has settled between the two friends, an understanding and comforting presence given from the young boy to his friend and comrade. Silence seems to help heal her burning heart.

They hear far away and hurried footsteps through the thick snow, and the two look at each other knowingly, both recognizing their friend's determined stride, a walk they could pick out of a million ones. Soon enough, they hear his voice shouting to them.

"Armin! Mikasa!" he seems a little out of breath, his voice still a little raspy probably from having just woken up, "I was looking everywhere for you!"

Eren walks up to the deck, setting his two hands on the wet wood and dubiously looks over at his two friends.

"Did I miss something?"

"The Corporal's been at it again" Armin responds as the dark haired boy hauls himself up on the deck and lies down next to Mikasa. He groans at the mere mention of their superior.

The three of them remain on the deck silently, watching the clouds pass before their eyes and the snow fall from the grey heavens. A sudden serenity submerges Mikasa as she feels her two friends, her family, clustered around her. Their warmth is reassuring, familiar, reminding her of when they would lie in the grass as kids and she would listen to them dreaming of better places, of far away lands outside of the walls. Time had passed ever since, and yet she still feels safe when they are close, as if a bit of home was concealed deep inside of them, enclosing her whenever they simply were around.

The light of the rising sun starts to illuminate everything; rays peeking around the trees behind them. A soft, yellow glow brightens up the small gardens, the white coat of winter cloaking the sleeping wildlife. And just as she knows the flowers will bloom once again, she understands the antics of her devoted heart and the energy that flows inside of it. Once more, she understands Levi's words when he would talk to her about awareness and peace of mind. As frustrating as she finds him, she can't help but admit how he has helped her see another way, perhaps a better one too; His own struggle for harmony becoming her own.

The sun rises, but things are still unclear. And as she bathes in the tranquillity of her friends' warmth, her thoughts linger once more on the man haunting her heart and mind, the cheerful song of the perched robin a balm to her soul.


	6. Midnight

_A/N : Hi everyone! I'm sorry this took a while, this chapter was a little tricky. BUT it is 1am right now and I forced myself to finish this for you guys! Thank you so much for the support since chapter 1, it's been such a blast to write! Reviews are always appreciated, tell me what you think!_

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The steady flame of the candle sends a shadow over his concerted and frowning face as he leaves his name in a black thick trail, the tip of his quill dancing across the pages before him. The silence of the night is as ever his faithful companion and the scrapping of his signature on the parchments a reassuring noise. Like most nights, he has lost any notion of time, vanishing in paperwork and reports, burying himself in numbing work. When finally he raises his eyes from his desk to his window, snowflakes riddle the dense obscurity of the dark, slashing the night with bright white ice. Levi leans back into his chair and straightens his back before running a hand through his black hair and rubbing one eye with the side of his palm. He bends back over his desk, an elbow across the wooden surface, and he places his head against his open hand. A long quiet sigh escapes him and he closes his eyes, indulging himself with a few seconds of rest.

When was the last time he had talked to her?

Minutes had turned into hours, hours into never ending days. And as days and nights tailed one another in a ceaseless refrain, weeks had past by, without him even noticing it, without him even really caring about it. He had seen her from afar, ran into her in the hallways, rarely alone, always overlooking him. And he mimicked her, disregarding her very presence, the silence between them heavier than the one inside their hearts. And yet there she was, surfacing in his mind in the middle of the night like the leitmotiv she had become.

Levi glances at the clock on his wall and stands, deciding to call it a night and head back to his bedroom. His chair scrapes against the hard wood floor as he pulls himself up and immediately shuffles through the paperwork on his desk, arranging it neatly into a tidy pile and setting it on the side of the brown, polished surface. He organizes and reorganizes every object on his desk, setting them back at their original position, placing each inkbottle, each piece of paper at an exact location. And like every night, once he is done, he turns to the small water basin in the corner of his office and washes his hands, getting rid of any black stains, of any speck of dust that could have accumulated on his skin. He grabs the small towel next to the copper basin and dries his hands methodically; forcing his mind to concentrate on the actions he is doing, focused on each movement, forbidding his mind to slip back to her. He places the damp towel back to the side of the basin and turns on his feet towards the door, grabbing as he walks by the chandelier with the tall burning candle. He puts his left hand on the iron handle and swings the door open, his eyes stuck on the ground. And as he is about to walk through the door, all of the muscles in his body tense at once; grasping from the corner of his eye a tall silhouette standing just outside of the room. He lets out a swear, raising the candle up in front of his eyes to distinguish the person standing in front of him.

She appears before him like a faint ray of sunlight after a storm, like a drop of rain after a hot and heavy day; as if he suddenly recalled something he had forgotten for too long. Her right hand is raised, closed in a fist, as if she were about to knock, and her face is bathed in darkness, her graceful features flickering in the light of the candle. Her eyes are as ardent as ever, and he recognizes in them her eternal tenacity, distinguishes the timeless fight going on inside of her. She is a burst of air for his drowning self.

"For fuck's sake, Ackerman." he curses, quickly looking away from her face, only to settle his frown back on her.

She takes a breath and opens her mouth to say something, but at the last moment decides otherwise, leaving her face in a mix of confusion and apprehension. Levi scowls at her, waiting for her to give him an explanation as to why she is standing there.

"Well?"

"Can we talk?" She asks, her shoulders slouching a little. Her head is tilted towards the ground and she raises her eyes to him slowly.

"It's the middle of the night, Ackerman," he manages to reply, pushing away the sensation rising in his stomach, "Come back in the morning."

He steps aside from the young girl, letting the door of his office close behind him, and starts to walk away. But she is persistent, and he hears her fall into step behind him.

"I should rephrase my sentence," she says, catching up with him and matching his stance. She looks back at him firmly, "I need to talk to you."

He keeps his eyes in front of him, refusing to look back at her.

"And you decided that three in the morning after years of silence was the perfect moment for that?" he snaps, increasing his pace. She doesn't answer right away, leaving nothing but their echoing steps to be heard.

"…It's only been two weeks." Mikasa finally replies, the irony noticeable in her voice, amused at her superior's tongue slip.

Levi catches himself from flinching. Annoyance rises inside of him and he lets her comment brush past him. The two remain silent, their footsteps resounding in the darkness of the hallways.

"I'm sor-" Mikasa finally starts to say, but the man walking beside her doesn't let her finish her sentence.

"Oh spare me your half assed apologies," he hisses, shooting a glare at her, "I'm not a kid anymore, Ackerman, I don't need anyone to hold my hand. Unlike you."

His harsh words have the desired effect and Mikasa's pace slows down, her strides almost coming to a stop. But her antagonism takes over the wound caused by his hurtful words and she launches herself back towards him, rushing behind him as they charge through the shadowy barracks.

"Corporal, please!" she almost bawls at him in anger, "It's important!"

He stops straight on his feet and swirls around to face the young girl who almost stumbles onto him. His face is close; she can smell his panting breath and feel his fuming glower dig into her own. Her eyes dart to his open mouth and back to his eyes, feeling her heart drop and her stomach clench.

"I'm listening." he utters, his voice like the calm before the storm.

She unconsciously bites her lower lip, something Levi doesn't miss. He lets out a faint exhale, and she feels it against her mouth. And because she doesn't speak up, he is the one to break the silence.

"I trained you every day for a month Ackerman," he declares with a soft yet resolved voice, "You evolved and you became a better soldier. I have nothing left to teach you, so you can continue training by yourself and we can both go back to our damn lives."

Her eyes seem to shine in the dark as he speaks those words, and because he is unable to hold her gaze any longer, he turns around and resumes his fast pace. For a moment he believes that she has finally given up on talking to him and that she won't follow him anymore. The thought strangely dismays him, and he feels deep inside his chest a knot that had not been present minutes ago. He hurries on, evading her, running away. But her voice lashes into the night behind him.

"No." Her negation is loud and furious; her voice is low and powerful. He feels her energy rise behind his back, a drive he knows all too well, a passion and fury he would fight the whole world for.

"I'm not done. Not yet." Her voice thunders again through the hall, and yet Levi almost distinguishes a crack in her voice, an unexpected fragility in her words.

"Settle down, Ackerman, you're going to wake up the whole barrack." He replies, irritated, turning back around to face her.

She is standing a few feet away, darkness enclosing her. They consider each other wordlessly, as they always would, and in their stance something familiar and endearing settles between them, something the both of them had been missing without admitting it. Giving in, Levi gestures her to follow him before slipping through a door and disappearing inside his room.

She stays immobile for an instant, her chest going up and down, her heart frantically beating against her rib cage. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm her agitated and unnerved mind whispering a million different things to her. She feels an urge deep inside to turn around and run in the opposite direction; another urge though, stronger, deeper, greater, longs to close in any kind of space left between herself and the corporal. Despite herself, despite the warnings she has received, she takes a careful step towards the door Levi has gone through. She wonders if it was a mistake to come see him in the middle of the night, but she had acted on impulse once again, unable to find sleep, unable to shake off the image of him working at his desk. She takes another step and the door gets closer, just as her heart gets faster. She hears the sound of a door sliding open from inside the room, of metal clinging together, something being put a way, the door sliding back. Another step and she can see the inside of the room, his room. There is barely any light but she can distinguish plain white walls, and the beginning of a single futon on the floor in the middle of the room. Another step and she is standing at the frame of the door. Levi is only in white now; he has taken off his jacket and his boots, and is lighting up the few candles on the small table where a few books are lined up against the wall. She looks around with a sort of astonishment, understanding in the tidiness and minimalism of his room this façade that he tries to hold to the rest of the world.

"Close the door. Shoes off."

She executes herself as he finishes to light the last of the candles, the flames sending across the room a peaceful and soft light. She does not take her eyes off every little detail she finds in his chamber, until she lets her gaze fall back on him. He turns around to face her, resting his back against the closed window.

"Alright Ackerman," he huffs, crossing his arms, "Spit it out, I don't have all night."

She takes a step towards him, pushing away a strand of her raven hair away from her eyes. She looks at him for a second, unconsciously taking another step, trying to figure out what she wants to say to him. And just as she gets closer, he seems to hold his breath, pushing himself back into the wall with each of her steps.

"You have terrible decorating skills." She blurts out, wanting to smack herself the moment the words come out of her mouth.

The man pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, slightly shaking his head.

"My patience is running low." He snarls.

"I…" the young girl blushes, her eyes dropping to the ground, "I just…"

"You're goddamn impossible, Ackerman." He whispers loud enough for her to hear. Her head snaps up, a glare on her face.

"Right, because you're such a pleasing person to talk to."

Levi groans in frustration, taking a step towards the young girl.

"You barge into my office after giving me the cold shoulder for two weeks-"

"I didn't barge into your office."

"It's the middle of the fucking night!" He retorts, one hand pointing towards the darkness outside of his window, "What could be so important as to-'"

"Fine. Forget it." She argues, throwing her hands in the air and turning on her heel towards the exit. She grabs her shoes on the ground and kicks open the door.

"I knew you wouldn't come and I waited anyways."

Levi blurts out the words, almost shooting them at her. She freezes, her hand still holding the door. She turns her head towards him, locking her gaze on the confused face of the man in front of her. Incapable of fully accepting what he has just said, she feels her mind panic; her heart skips a beat. She lets the air go out of her lungs and drops her eyes back on the ground, a sudden desolation taking over her entire being.

"Why me?" she asks in a soft, quiet voice, "Why did you decide to train me?"

A few seconds pass without him answering her, and just as she is about to entirely give up on him, she hears his voice, soft, gentle.

"I saw something in you," he murmurs, "A promise. A chance at survival."

The sadness of her heart melts away and she turns around to face him.

"Who's?"

Silence settles once again in the room, but their eyes seek each other out, and his seem to speak a thousand words. They try to make her understand through the strength of his gaze, a pleading to not make him say it. And because words fail both of them, because she realizes, finally, completely, she yields.

In a single stride she is against him, crushing her lips on his, seeking in his kiss the answer to all of the questions she had been asking herself. It takes him a moment to realize she is in his arms, but quickly, he melts under her kiss. She closes every inch of space between them, pinning him against the wall, clasping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer as her body grows with longing. His hands travel around her waist and down her back, letting go of all his restrained desire for her, all of his restrained feelings, everything he had tried to set aside. Their kisses are hungry and fervent, their heavy breathing mingle together as they taste each other's tongue.

They stop their embrace, flushed, flustered. Foreheads against the other, they look into each other's eyes, panting. Levi raises his hands to grab Mikasa's head, gently stroking his thumbs against her red cheeks. He grazes her nose with his, his eyes exploring every little detail of her face, every scar, every trait, every freckle. And she smiles, a smile so rare and so radiant, he can't help but smile himself, giving in, letting go, caution be damned. And as he carries her to his bed, they find in each kiss a solace they never had expected to find and just for a little while, they both forget the world and burry themselves in each other.


End file.
